[NDS] Pure Love???

March 2, 2001

beloved dervish...

....the dance of higher love begins once again in you.....you have discovered

the beloved in all directions..you have discovered true love...you have

recovered your true Self...you have recovered love itself...the journey is

not at an end...it is a new beginning...you are becoming a bodhisattva...a

divine martyr for love...a Christ...a saint...the beginning of pure love is

the beginning of suffering the pangs of holy fire...you are not

alone...there are many in the sacred pack...i run with you...^^~~~~~

further up and further in,

white wolfe

The Beloved is a Hidden Treasure

(For Nimue)

"I was a hidden treasure, and I desired to be known; therefore I created the

creation in order that I might be known." -Sufi Wisdom

The Beloved is like the fragrant kiss of the Rose.

A hidden treasure to be appreciated, courted,

Ungraspable, not to be possessed, merely enjoyed.

Ephemeral and illusive as the time during which

her delicate petals gently unfold and then wither,

falling one by one back to the dark, fecund earth.

Her form and essence, briefly one, falling in two,

her ravishing beauty withering, as you watch, into dust.

Her essence, her sweet perfume, drifting, arising,

Heavenward, floating endlessly upward on the wind.

Ironically, both returning, having again become two,

both to the Root, one by falling, the other arising,

Returning to the Source, the original dark Nothingness,

the Father and the Mother of the revealed and the hidden,

of all that flourishes in the laugher of sunlight and wind.

The body to the gentle Mother, the soul to the loving Father.

The Beloved is like the lingering of ruby red wine,

a kiss of flavor stolen from a sacramental chalice.

Something forbidden trickling hotly into the blood

igniting the soul with a holy fire that won't burn out.

Whispering of an ecstasy that can only be expressed

as a burning, burning, burning, longing, longing, longing,

a thirst that cannot be quenched, a fire that cannot be smothered.

The Beloved's chalice is one that is never full, never empty.

No matter how many times the Lover returns to steal a kiss

Lift the Beloved by her silver waist, gaze into her golden eyes

and lift her holy nectar to his parched and burning mouth,

The Lover is never satisfied for more than a fugitive moment

His burning, burning, burning, longing, longing, longing

is to become one with the Beloved. To become the wine

the holy vessel, and by drinking, drinking, drinking

become one and of the same essence that is the Beloved.

There is little the Lover can do but futilely attempt

to stand in the stillness and be present to the Rose

and so, for a moment, at least, halt the relentless

Procession of all Creation through devouring time

its remorseless expansion into ever retreating space.

And patiently await, calmly stand, tranquilly sit, until,

His form begins falling and his essence wafting, until,

his burning fires his body to ashes and his soul to smoke.

Then like his Rose, he who is one will become two again,

Then and only then, for, perhaps, the first time, in life and in death,

They will be two souls of One Spirit dancing upon the Cosmic Wind.

______________________

There is a Rose of such virtue

She is the Rose that bear Jesu.

Hail, Mary, Mother of Bliss and Love.